


Skate With Me

by aflawedfashion



Category: Defiance (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Ice Skating, ice dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 07:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17720540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aflawedfashion/pseuds/aflawedfashion
Summary: Stahma goes to the ice rink to bring her handmaiden home, but Kenya persuades her to stay.





	Skate With Me

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Kenya said with a bashful tilt of her head, hiding her excitement behind the pretense that she hardly knew Stahma. To the world, Stahma was a happily married woman who wouldn’t dream of visiting a prostitute. To Kenya, Stahma was a broken woman who deserved so much better than a husband who hurt her, but of course, Stahma wasn’t the only client Kenya pretended was a stranger in the light of day. Keeping secrets kept her in business. It kept her alive.

“I was looking for my handmaiden.” Stahma smiled politely, equally skillful at feigning innocence. “She said she was taking lessons.”

“Jalina?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not here to take her home, are you?” Kenya frowned, disappointed not only that Stahma wouldn’t allow Jalina a single day off, but that she hadn’t come to see _her_.

“She has work to do.” Stahma’s cold indifference stung more than bitter winter air around them.

“It’s such a beautiful day. The sun is actually shining, and you know how rare that is this time of year. Let her enjoy herself.” Kenya gave Stahma a doe-eyed smile, knowing she would find it irresistible. “Don’t make her leave just yet.”

“I-“

“Do you know how to ice skate?” Kenya interrupted before Stahma could protest.

“I haven’t had the opportunity to partake in this particular sport with much frequency,” Stahma said, “but there was a similar sport on Casti that I was quite fond of during my youth.”

“So you know how?”

“Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

“Then skate with me,” Kenya said. “Everyone else has a partner, but I’m all alone, and you know, it’s like a dance… you start to feel lonely out there by yourself, watching everyone else find their perfect match, someone to catch them when they fall.”

Stahma’s eyes darted around the rink, searching for anyone who might notice and judge. “I’m simply looking for Jalina.”

“She’s having fun.” Kenya positioned herself in front of Stahma, forcing her to meet her gaze. “And you should be too.”

“I’m Shanje.”

Kenya shook her head and laughed under her breath. “You hide behind your wealth like it’s an iron fence stopping you from living your life.”

“I don’t hide behind anything.”

“Then you’ll skate with me without worrying about what anyone else thinks.” In a whisper she added, “just like you danced with me not so long ago.”

Stahma didn’t say a word, but the eager look in her eyes gave Kenya hope.

“There’s nothing shameful about having a little fun, Stahma. It’s sport. It’s art.” Kenya extended her hand to Stahma, and to her surprise, Stahma took it. Her fuzzy mitten engulfed Stahma’s elegant leather glove, and with only slight hesitation, Stahma allowed Kenya to fit her with a pair of skates and lead her onto the ice.

A glimmer of hope stirred within Kenya’s body. She began to believe she could persuade Stahma to open up, to live her life without constant fear of her husband’s retaliation.

Stahma delicately wrapped her hand around Kenya’s, their blades moving in sync as they stroked around the rink, growing accustomed to the feel of the other at her side, a strangely perfect fit.

“You’re better at this than you let on,” Kenya said. “In fact, you’re amazing.”

A pale pink blush tinged Stahma’s cheeks. “I’m hardly amazing.”

“You Casti women and your humility.” Kenya smiled playfully as she squeezed Stahma’s hand. “You’re all experts in the things you claim to hardly have experience with.” She raised an eyebrow. “I should know.” Stahma wasn’t the only sweet Castithan housewife to find herself “lost” in the NeedWant.

Stahma looked away, an embarrassed smile on her face.

“You can’t play innocent with me,” Kenya said. “Not anymore.”

Stahma met Kenya’s gaze with an unreadable look. “I’m just here to skate.”

“Of course.”

They sped around the rink in time to a playful Casti song. Perfectly innocent until romantic music swelled, and Kenya turned to face Stahma. Her heart pounded as she dared to slow their speed and pull Stahma closer.

The sounds of children yelping and birds chirping faded into the music. Safely hidden in the crowd, they began dancing across the ice, wrapped in each other’s arms as if there were no complications between them - as if they were an ordinary couple falling in love. Their eyes met for a moment before they both looked down at their entwined hands, the intimacy more than they were prepared to handle.

When Kenya finally summoned the courage to look up again, she found Stahma watching her, waiting for her. With an enticing look, Stahma pulled ahead of Kenya, their hands tightly linked until they could hardly hold on, until Kenya feared she would pull away.

Then, Kenya’s heart skipped a beat as Stahma pulled her forward, her body nearly crashing into Stahma’s. Clumsy, yet strangely graceful. More romantic than Kenya could have ever guessed.

“If I had known getting you on the ice was all it took for you to lose your inhibitions, I would have done it weeks ago,” Kenya said.

“It’s like you said,” Stahma paused, looking into Kenya’s eyes before adding, “It’s just sport.”

“Art.”

“Yes.”

“Nothing improper about it.” Sadness marred Kenya’s words. She felt as if she were pursuing a closeted Victorian maiden. A hopeless endeavor doomed to end in heartbreak… but she couldn’t let go of Stahma’s hand, couldn’t let go of the chance, however minuscule, that Stahma could escape her abusive husband. Society be damned.

Stahma echoed Kenya’s sadness in a demure smile as the music changed. Their sweet romantic song gave way to a jazzy number unfamiliar to Kenya. The spell had broken, but she refused to give up. Kenya led Stahma in a simple dance pattern, their movements growing more precise with every stroke of the blade, their gazes locked on each other until the music stopped, and Stahma pried her hand from Kenya’s grip.

Any more time together would be indecent.

“I’ll be here tomorrow.” Kenya hoped her voice didn’t sound as desperate to Stahma as it sounded inside her head. “Please, join me again.”

Stahma lightly bowed her head. “I would like that.”


End file.
